


Two Halves Of A Heart

by LilacCrocuta



Series: Medieval Septiplier [26]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Gore, M/M, Protective Tyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacCrocuta/pseuds/LilacCrocuta
Summary: A tragedy strikes the palace, and King Mark and his friends must muddle through the shock of it.
Relationships: Ethan Nestor/Tyler Scheid, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Medieval Septiplier [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681588
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	Two Halves Of A Heart

Since the recent issue with Alex, Tyler's relationship with Ethan had taken a turn. 

But fortunately, it was a nice turn. They'd resolved things between each other, and more recently, the tall knight had gotten his revenge on King Mark by buttering the entire seat of his throne and the steps leading up to it, which pleased him even more. As his friend limped out of the throne room with one hand clutching his backside, Sir Tyler had smugly reminded him to not keep secrets around him ever again.

The prank had gotten him yelled at, but Mark couldn't stay too mad at his close friend for long, and Tyler "apologized" by helping the king to Lady Evelyn's. 

Now, both he and Sir Ethan laid in the former's bed together, with the latter cackling and giggling as Tyler enthralled him with the story of his practical joke. It warmed his heart to hear his lover laugh, and the taller knight couldn't help but join in from the contagious nature of it. That was a recent step up that their relationship had taken--they had begun to sleep in the same bed together at night, more for comfort than pleasure. 

It took a few long moments for Ethan to calm down enough to speak.

"W-was he angry?" The younger knight snickered, gazing up at Tyler with that adorable gleam in his emerald eyes. 

He chuckled, holding him closer with an arm.

"Oh very much so." The bigger knight assured him, smirking as he did. "I suppose I'm lucky to be such a good friend of his, otherwise he'd likely have stripped me of my title and thrown me out of here." 

Ethan snuggled into his chest, a small shiver running through him as he did. "I can hardly bear the thought of you having to leave." He murmured out.

Tyler gave him a subtle nod, exhaling quietly as he squeezed Ethan a bit closer. "I know." He agreed, softly. "But understand that I will never leave this castle as long as I am bound to my duty to protect Mark, and you as well."

He felt the younger knight smile against his chest, and he smiled back, before craning his neck to blow out the nearby candle that sat atop their nightstand. As he pulled the covers over both himself and Ethan, the two quietly bid each other goodnight with gentle kisses, and relaxed in their comfortably tangled position.

But the peace of that evening had yet to be broken, and Tyler would find that out within a minute or two of hearing Ethan's slow, steady breathing against his breast. He'd nearly drifted off, one of his hands in his lover's silky brunet locks, when he dimly picked up the sound of someone heading down the hall outside. 

He brushed off the suspicion almost at once. Sir Wade had probably gotten up to use the lavatory. 

**_Thud._ **

**_Sssscrape._ **

**_Thud._ **

**_Sssscrape._ **

Those noises, however, got Tyler's full attention. The tall knight's eyes shot open in the darkness of the room, and he tensed up as they continued, closer this time.

**_Thud._ **

**_Sssscrape._ **

**_Thud._ **

**_Sssscrape._ **

He lifted his head off the pillows, risking a glance down at Ethan, who was blissfully snoring away. Instinctively, Tyler stiffened further at the sound of the quiet thudding and scraping, as it suddenly came to a halt. Baffled, he could only wonder what the hell had been making such noises. 

And then there came a faint creaking sound, and at once, he realized that someone was out in the hallway, nudging against their door.

His protective instinct arose from its once dormant stage, and Tyler immediately slipped his arms free from Ethan, laying his lover down against the pillows slowly and carefully as not to wake him yet. When the younger knight kept on snoring, he pulled the covers further over him, then crept out of bed to kneel beside the bed and pull his sword out from under it. 

As he reached for the handle of his blade, there came another sound from outside--something small, probably sharp, slowly and lightly raking against the wood of the doors.

The tall knight felt his heart jump up into his throat as he realized that whoever was out there was probably trying to find a weak point on the door to possibly stab through it. To barge into the room.

With all the noise of an owl in flight, he took hold of his sword and crept closer to the door with it. Once he was at the entrance of the room, he slowly reached out for the lock, as the raking noises kept up. 

With his grasp around the lock, he stiffened, securing his grip on it and his blade.

Then he unlocked the door, stepping outside as he flung the door wide open, sword aimed outside….

At first glance, Sir Tyler frowned, at the sight of no attempted intruder standing there.

And then he looked down, and the beast at his feet  _ lunged. _

With a sharp gasp, he narrowly dove to the side to avoid those massive, snapping jaws as they slammed shut a few hairs away from his scalp, and as he whirled around to see more of the creature beneath him, his stomach dropped.

It was a saltwater crocodile. 

And both of its gleaming eyes were fixed on him.

With a shrill hiss, the monster lunged upwards again, and Tyler scrambled over its tail as it drove him back, away from the bedroom with another snap of its jaws, and then it began to stomp closer to him. Stricken with horror, the half knight could only gape as the enormous animal closed in, hundreds of pounds of pure muscle and scales cornering him against the opposite wall of the corridor--

_ Oh no. _

Tyler brought his sword up to try to fend off the monster as its legs bent and tensed. Suddenly, there was movement at his peripheral, and the tall knight briefly tore his gaze away from the beast at his feet, just in time to see another muscly tail vanish into the bedroom. His blood froze, and he tried desperately to leap over the first monster. 

But suddenly, there was a blur of movement underneath him, and in the next heartbeat, a vice with teeth was slammed shut around the brunet's left forearm. Tyler  _ howled,  _ stabbing blindly at his adversary as he was wrenched to the tile floor, kicking and thrashing as pain shot through his appendage from the tips of his fingers all the way to his shoulderblade. The beast snarled and dragged him around, agony coursing through the tall knight as he fought back desperately, fumbling to find a soft spot in the tough hide. 

Through his own pain, he heard a scream from the bedroom--a high pitched wail of utter terror that brought back the adrenaline he needed. He only had to glance at the yellow eye right in front of his own to realize what he had to do, and dropped his sword to drive his thumb straight into it.

Almost immediately, his throbbing, bleeding arm was released with a hiss, and Tyler just barely caught sight of Mark, Sir Seán and Sir Wade sprinting over to the beast with their weapons drawn nearby as it whirled around and away from him, thrashing its head. With a nod to them, he staggered upwards and grabbed his sword off the floor, before making a beeline for the bedroom. The rush of adrenaline spurred him on as he charged in...only to be replaced with utmost horror at the sight that befell him.

The bedroom, which had fallen silent, had been half-trashed by the beast standing in it. The nightstand was a splintered mess on the floor, warm candle wax and glass shards littering it. The covers had been ripped into and torn off the bed. There was a smell permeating the room--salty and metallic, Tyler realized, his stomach churning.

**_Sssscrape._ **

The monster slowly turned around to face him, and suddenly, all the breath was punched out of the tall knight as something fell from those powerful, lethal jaws, dropping wetly against the floor. 

It was a small hand.

It was  _ Ethan's  _ hand.

_ No. _

Tyler couldn't breathe. He could only stare at the monster as it blinked slowly at him, with fresh blood still streaming down its jaws. 

Dimly, he felt someone grabbing his shoulders from behind him, but he didn't lash out at them. Thankfully, he didn't need to, as it was Sir Wade. His close friend was murmuring something into his ear, pulling him away as Mark and Sir Seán stormed into the room beside them. 

Through the blood roaring in his ears, he could barely understand what Wade was uttering to him, but he could barely feel another set of arms grasping at his own. Sir Bob was murmuring as well, his voice sounding tight like he was trying not to cry. 

Tyler was sat down against the nearby wall by his two friends, unable to form words at that point, much less recall how to breathe.

Ethan was gone.

_ "Will he be alright…?"  _ Mark murmured to Lady Evelyn, as he, Sir Seán and her stood outside the nurse's room. The woman sighed quietly, and nodded.

"I...his arm will recover." She stammered out, casting her teary gaze up to the king, as Seán's grip tightened around his sleeve. "His heart, however…"

Mark gave her a small nod, his throat clogging with tears. He and Seán had known something was amiss as soon as they caught sight of Sir Tyler standing there in the doorway with that devastated expression on his face. They just hadn't expected to find… _ that.  _

Why did it have to be Ethan? Their youngest knight had first been introduced to him five years ago, and Mark recalled noticing his bright, cheerful nature and willingness to serve from the get-go. He knew the risks of his job, but he still managed to light up the palace with his goofy smile and humor when he wasn't on duty. There were moments where he reminded the king of perhaps forgetting his reading glasses, or brought a smile to his face when he wasn't feeling too spectacular. 

He only noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks when Seán's gentle hand began to wipe them away, and glanced from his fiance's grief-stricken face to the nurse once again, as she visibly tried not to cry.

"T-thank you." The king choked out, giving her another nod. "May we s-see him…?"

With a shaking dip of her head, Evelyn quietly stepped aside, and the two men made their way into the room, arm in arm. Not too far from them, their friend lay in a hospital bed, his left arm bandaged thoroughly and eyes closed, but red and puffy, most likely from crying. The king and Seán exchanged a pitiful glance, before the Irish knight nodded to him, and the king looked down at their friend once more, reaching out to gently pat his other shoulder. He swallowed quietly.

"Sir Tyler…?"

Slowly, the wounded knight's eyelids twitched, but eventually lifted, and Mark saw his blue eyes flicker upwards to his own. They were clouded, he noticed, with a twinge of grief.

"It's us, lad." Seán choked out beside him. "We're here for ye, alright?"

Mark nodded his agreement. "It's going to be rough," he admitted, softly, trying his damndest not to remember Ethan as just a severed appendage on the floor. "B-but we'll get through it--together."

The taller knight just exhaled softly through his nose and closed his eyes again.

The burial was, for lack of a better word, agonizing. The only remains of their friend in the bedroom that hadn't been digested were shreds of his royal blue robes, and of course, the severed appendage, which was not permitted to be buried yet, as Lady Evelyn had offered to study it, at least to find out if Ethan had lost his hand prior or postmortem. 

Tyler had refused to speak at the burial. He could barely find the strength to do so, and with that, Mark had agreed to do the honors. 

"Ethan was a kind, courageous, young man. He loved his family. He loved us, his friends. And he loved his job. Despite all the hardships he faced here, or outside the palace grounds, he carried his head high with immense dignity." Mark felt his throat tighten as he spoke, gazing out at the large crowd of his fellow knights and castle staff, as well as Sir Ethan's gathered family. "H-he was always proud to help out, however small or big the task. M-my friends and I would often joke that...h-his heart was so large, t-that it was the reason he was so clumsy sometimes."  The king smiled tearfully as a small ripple of laughter traveled around the gathering of his knights.  But the only one not joining in on it was Sir Tyler, who gazed down at the casket with tears still slowly leaking from his eyes. To his left, Sir Seán pressed closer to him in a gesture of comfort. Mark swallowed and went on.

"To me, and the rest of my friends, Ethan was as close as family. That is how I'll remember him." With a shaking exhale, the king bowed his head. "Rest well, Ethan Nestor. We won't dare forget your incredible service, or your loyalty to those that you loved."

As he finished his speech, Mark slowly stepped back from the casket, giving Sir Wade and Sir Bob a small nod, and they solemnly began to lower the container into the ground. Both of them had tears brimming in their eyes, but neither shed them just yet, and proceeded to bury their friend's remains, as a respectful silence fell over the crowd. 

Before long, the mourners laid their roses upon the grave and began to leave, and within a few long minutes, only Sir Tyler, Sir Seán and the king stood beside the mound of dirt, all three of them quiet. But finally, Tyler broke the tense silence.

"I hope that the two of you find the bastard who let those beasts into the castle." As he spoke, the tallest knight turned to look at them, tears nearly dry against his cheeks, but still visible to the king and his fiance. Mark furrowed his brow as it suddenly sank in what his friend was most likely implying.

"S-Sir Tyler…?" He trailed off. Tyler lifted his chin the tiniest bit.

"My king," He murmured out. "My friend, it has been an honor. But I'm afraid that I cannot bear to stay here."

Mark didn't think it was possible for his heart to sink even more after he'd just wrapped up a eulogy for his friend, but he'd been sorely mistaken. Beside him, Seán nodded solemnly to the taller man. 

"W-we understand." His voice was soft, and with the lump in his throat nearly choking him, Mark hesitantly nodded his agreement.

"Please take care for us." The king pleaded quietly. "And remember, we will be here if you need to talk to us. We promise you that, Tyler."

"I know." The tall knight sighed out, voice cracking as he went on. "I-I will leave my robes, my armor, and my sword for whichever man is approved to take them."

Mark gave him a solemn dip of his head, sharing a brief glance with Seán, before looking up at Sir Tyler again. Unable to bear it, he made it over to his friend in a few strides, embracing him tightly. The bigger man hesitantly returned the gesture, giving him a firm squeeze and opening his arms more so that the Irishman could join in on the group hug. 

After several long moments, Tyler released them, and the king and his fiance did the same. Mark sniffled, only slightly comforted as Seán slipped his fingers between his own. 

"Farewell, Tyler." He bid their friend, quietly. Tyler respectfully dipped his head to the two men, then turned around, casting one last glance at the grave, before trudging away towards the palace, where the stables awaited him. 

Mark watched him go, his battered heart splitting open like thin ice. 

_ I've had to say goodbye to two good friends in one day. _

Beside him, his fiance gently squeezed his hand, and Mark tore his bleary gaze away from Tyler to look at Seán.

"He'll be alright, love," The Irishman assured him. "If there's one thing ye and I both know about Tyler, it's that he's as strong as a bull inside and out."

The king swallowed quietly, but shrugged. "I know….but I'll still miss him." He murmured, resting his head against the Irish knight's own, as Seán leaned in closer. His fiance sighed softly.

"Maybe he'll come back. He's just grievin' hard right now, but once he's back on his feet again, there's a chance he'll return to us." 

Mark hummed quietly. "Maybe." He agreed. 

The sound of footsteps pounding against the dirt made both men look up, and the king was surprised to see Lady Evelyn running up to them, holding the middle of her dress up so she wouldn't trip over it. 

"I thought you were busy." He remarked, releasing Seán's hand as he caught the serious expression on the nurse's face. She stopped in front of them, huffing out a breath and glancing at the two men pleadingly.

"I was." Their friend panted out. "I've found something, and both of you ought to see it."

Mark and Seán exchanged a worried glance, but the king nodded to Evelyn, and ran alongside her and his fiance as she hurried to the palace with them. 

Together, they strode inside and made their way to her office, where she led them to the very back, to the table where she'd been studying the severed hand. The appendage in question was partially covered by a white sheet. Furrowing his brow, Mark glanced from Seán to the nurse once more, as she swiftly reached over and uncovered the gruesome-looking appendage. Instinctively, he looked away for a brief moment, but gathered just enough courage to look up and watch their friend casually pick up one of the digits of the hand, which she'd apparently chopped off.

"Do you both see this bone, right here?" She pointed to the spot she'd cut it off from, and Mark hesitantly nodded with his fiance, raising an eyebrow as the nurse glanced from the digit to them. "This bone has told me two very important details--one is that it's been broken before."

"The bone told ye that….?" Seán piped up, with just a  _ pinch  _ of concern. Evelyn gave him a very unamused expression, and he shut up at once, letting her go on.

"The second detail it showed me," She explained. "Is that its owner was a young male, who was barely nineteen." 

Mark's tongue felt leaden as he stared at the nurse, aghast. Beside him, Seán sucked in a soft breath.

Evelyn's eyes held a solemn look. "My friends," she stated. "Ethan is still out there, somewhere."

The king had to hold onto the corner of the table from the shock brought on by the news, as he looked over and met his fiance's wide blue eyes.

"We have to find Sir Tyler." He realized aloud. Seán nodded his agreement, and with a heartfelt "Thank you" to Evelyn, they immediately booked it out of the Nurse's office.

The ride to Tyler's father's house was a tense one. As he and his fiance galloped there on their own steeds, Mark could only wonder how Tyler would take such news. He was still dealing with the immense shock of it. 

By the time they'd reached the house, the king was shaking as he dismounted his horse with Seán, both from the aforementioned shock, and with a deepening, festering fear for Ethan's safety.

Together, they strode up to the door, and Mark damn-near pounded on it with his fist, giving his fiance an apologetic look as Seán hopped back in surprise.

"Ye don't need to break their door down, y'know." The Irish knight huffed out, half-jokingly. Mark blushed, turning to the door as it quietly opened up to reveal Sir Tyler's father, whose expression morphed from confusion to pity in a heartbeat. He bowed respectfully.

"My condolences, your majesty, Sir Seán." He addressed them both, as the king nodded. "My son has just told me the news."

"Is he alright?" Seán pressed, quietly. Mr. Scheid nodded, and Mark heaved a breathy exhale of relief, as his fiance did the same. "That's good, because we need to see him, now, preferably." 

Mr. Scheid raised an eyebrow at them, before glancing over his shoulder to call up the stairs.

"Tyler? Two of your friends are here! It's urgent!"

It took a few moments for Tyler to come downstairs, but as he did, Mr. Scheid stepped back at once, and the tall man stood in the doorway to look down at the two men. His face was still tearstained, and his eyes resembled stormy clouds, but he cleared his throat.

"What is it? Have I left something at the palace?" He croaked out.

Mark took a deep breath, and shook his head. "No, Tyler, but...well, you see, there's been a mistake."

The taller man gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? If this is about my position, I can assure you that I am sta--"

"Nononono." Seán interjected, shutting their friend up at once. "Tyler, that wasn't Ethan's hand that we gathered."

The taller man stared at them both, and Mark braced himself, prepared to catch him if he toppled over. His face had gone from blotchy and red to nearly white, and his blue eyes were wide as dinner plates. When he gripped the doorway with a shaking hand, the king heard the soft wood creak the smallest bit. 

"Son…?" Mr. Scheid called quietly from behind him. "Are you alright? Do you need some water?" 

Tyler visibly swallowed, then shook his head, glancing from Mark to Seán. The king saw a muscle in his jaw tense, before he looked at his father over his shoulder.

"I'm afraid I'll have to visit some other day."

As Mark smiled shakily with relief, Tyler turned to him and Seán again, as the blue fire returned to his eyes. "Let's go."

  
  


As soon as the trio had reached the palace once more, their fellow knights, Sir Wade, Sir Bob, Sir Gar, Sir Patrick were rushing out to meet them, all four of them wide eyed, but looking relieved to see Tyler as their friend clambered off his steed, Mark and Seán following suit. The king gave Sir Bob a grateful look as he took their steeds by the reins and led them over to the stables, before he led the others inside.

"Lady Evelyn's j-just told us t-the news." Wade stammered out as he strode alongside Mark. "Your highness, we still have yet to find out who snuck those monsters in here, and how!"

"Whoever did it also took Ethan," Sir Patrick pointed out from behind them, as Mark opened his mouth to speak. "So they're probably intent on keeping him, at least for now."

"That may be true, but--"

Sir Gar cut him off. "But where could he be? Do we even have a suspect yet?" 

"We're gonna find out all those things in the throne room." Seán raised his voice to the three, and Mark gave him a grateful nod when they quieted down at once. 

As they strode into the room, Sir Wade pulled over a card table, and Mark pulled a map of Youtubia out of his pocket, bringing it over to the table and unfolding it. For nearly an hour, they discussed potential suspects, and where to look first, and how they might find the bastard who'd kidnapped Ethan. Eventually, they agreed on finding the poor nineteen year old's family, and perhaps looking from there.

As it turned out, the victim's mother had actually been flying in several letters to them since the night of the incident, and as Mark read through them, he knew he'd gotten what he needed already. Apparently, she lived practically right around the corner from a local butcher shop. And conveniently, in the same neighborhood….

"Son of a bitch." Seán practically growled out, staring at the map with his fiance. Mark nodded his agreement, snorting through his nostrils as he glared down at the Kjellberg house. With a fiery rage heating his blood, the king looked up at his men.

"Alright, Wade, Bob, Tyler, get your armor, your weapons, and meet me at the stables."

Tyler, for obvious reasons, was the first one out of the room. But Mark and the other three weren't too far behind.

As they rode to Felix's house, Mark took notice of just how quiet Sir Tyler was. He couldn't exactly blame him, though. 

"We'll find him, you know." He reassured his friend, lowly. 

Tyler clenched his jaw, not yet looking at him. "It's been two days, Mark."

The king stiffened, but shoved aside the wave of guilt that sucker punched him in the gut at the harsh realization. He swallowed, and began to notice the distant shape of Felix's house getting closer with each galloping stride their horses took. He glanced back at the others and took a deep breath. "Alright man, we must stop here and leave the steeds."

And so they did, and once their steeds had been safely tied up together, Mark let the four to the front door of the house. Sir Bob quietly picked the lock open with a thin steel wire from his pocket, and they quietly slipped inside with barely any noise. At first, they couldn't hear any noise except their own breathing.

But then, there was a sound from somewhere below the floor--a feeble whimper, mostly muffled by the floorboards, but still detectable. And before Mark or the other three could stop him, Tyler was heading for the half-hidden basement door not too far away, one hand on his sword handle. With a jolt of mixed fear for his friend and for Ethan, Mark led the others after him, as he practically flung open the door and strode down the stairs. 

Upon descending the staircase, a noxious odor smacked the king across the face--the smell of mold, mildew, filthy water, and many other things he didn't want to think about right then.

Sir Tyler, however, wasn't bothered by it, or at least that's what he let on. He swept his steely gaze around the darkened room, which was only lit by the chandelier high above them. 

As Mark stood just behind his friend, both men jumped at the horrible scraping noise coming from nearby, and as they whirled around with their swords drawn, they saw where it had come from….all around the room, there were at least nine massive steel cages, all of them holding a saltwater crocodile. 

The king swallowed, glancing at Sir Tyler, who tentatively met his gaze.

Suddenly, Seán inhaled sharply from his left.  _ "Mark." _

Both the king and Sir Tyler looked to the Irishman, as Seán pointed at something in front of them, his eyes wide with horror. 

And as he turned to look, Mark paled. A few meters away, in a much smaller cage than the ones around them, there was a wooden tub, filled to the brim with murky, pinkish water. 

And in that water, Ethan lay on his back, wrists tied tightly together with rope , and bruises and cuts littering his all-too-pale skin. His eyes were closed, one of them apparently blackened, and his lip was badly split.

Tyler let out a noise that utterly  _ broke  _ his already aching heart, and in a few lengthy strides, he and the others reached the cage and stepped aside for Bob to try and pick the lock holding it shut, as the tallest knight dropped helplessly to his knees and wept. 

Mark shuddered, his legs feeling weak and a new wave of tears brimming in his eyes, but before he could let them out, Sir Wade let out a cry of relief from their left.

"Men, he's breathing!"

At once, Tyler lifted his head, his eyes wide as he scrambled to his feet and stared at his lover.

"E-Ethan?" He choked out, as Mark glanced anxiously at Bob. "Ethan, can you hear us, bluebird?  _ Ethan?!" _

Finally, the youngest knight stirred, the filthy, bloody water sloshing gently as he did, and just to hear him  _ cough  _ was the most beautiful sound to grace Mark's ears at that point. 

_ "Hey,"  _ The all-too-familiar voice coming from their right, however, made his blood boil. "Get your hands away from the chew toy." 

As all five men whirled around,  _ Felix  _ grinned at them from the shadows between two of the bigger cages. "Ah, it's only you gentlemen. I wasn't expec--"

Tyler didn't let him finish that sentence, and with a bloodthirsty snarl, the taller knight was  _ charging  _ straight at him, practically foaming at the mouth as he lunged for his arch rival.

But Felix didn't even flinch, and instead reached over to yank down a lever beside his head.

In utter horror, Mark watched two of the cages' doors slide upwards, and as Tyler whirled around, the beasts inside of them slid out, both looking at him ravenously. 

_ "TYLER!"  _ Wade cried out, as the first monster snapped at the tallest knight's legs. Tyler nimbly sidestepped and struck out with his sword, only glancing up at the others for a brief moment.

_ "GET ETHAN OUT OF THAT TUB!"  _ He ordered.

And then, both crocodiles were upon him, the king's good friend vanishing behind a thrashing, hissing, snapping wall of scales and teeth. 

While Sir Tyler was distracted, the king saw Felix climb up the side of one of the cages from just behind him and escape the room through a hidden panel in the ceiling with the agility of a weasel.

"Wade, Bob, after him!" Mark snapped, gesturing to the escape route their rival had just taken. With solemn nods, both men were up and chasing their former friend at once, with Bob tossing the steel pick to him as he ran off. Dropping to his knees with Seán, the remaining two worked together to frantically get the lock open, as the Irishman kept quietly reassuring Ethan, though his own voice was shaking.

"We're gonna get ye out o'there, sweetheart, just stay calm, alright? Mark and I are comin' to get ye. Tyler's right there!"

As he struggled to pick the lock open, Mark risked a glance at the nearby fight, just in time to see Tyler rise up over the two massive reptiles, roaring like a bear as he lashed out at them with his sword, even though he was bleeding from a fresh bite on his shoulder and ankle.

Finally,  _ finally,  _ the lock was opened up, and with shaking hands, the king practically yanked it off the chains holding the door shut, then threw the aforementioned door wide open and scrambled inside with Seán at his heels.

Together, the two men lifted Ethan out of the disgusting tub, both of them recoiling in horror at the state of their friend's skin. Ethan had very obviously taken a beating in the two days that he'd been here, and Mark wanted to throw up at the ugly slashes, bite wounds and bruises that covered most of him. 

The smaller man didn't open his eyes, but shuddered audibly as he was cradled by the king, and the raven haired man's heart clenched painfully as he felt him trembling from cold, and probably pain as well.

Beside him, Seán was taking off his upper armor to reveal his green robes underneath, and Mark caught on to what he was doing as his fiance slipped out of his shirt. Together, they wrapped the soft, dry fabric around Ethan, who coughed against Mark's chest. The king felt his eyes stinging once more, and held him close with Seán, hushing him as though he were a child.

_ "It's going to be alright, Ethan."  _ He whispered, leaning closer to the Irish knight as Seán huddled against them both. Behind them, the noises of the battle had ceased, and Mark was hesitant to look over his shoulder to see the aftermath. 

But Seán looked, and when he heard the soft exhale from his fiance over the limping footfalls approaching them, Mark dared to glance over his shoulder, just as Sir Tyler hobbled into the cage with them and dropped to his knees beside the two with a throaty grunt of pain. Panting heavily and sweating, he held out his arms, and Mark nodded, carefully letting him cradle his lover.

Slowly but surely, Ethan's eyes flickered open, and as they took in the sight of Tyler gazing down at him, his bloodied lips twitched upwards in a weak smile.

And for the first time in two whole days, Tyler smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that was enough angst for y'all!  
> Believe it or not, this one fic was inspired by the instrumental track from Speechless by Naomi Scott.   
> Stay indoors, stay safe, don't touch your face, and peace out!


End file.
